


Property

by SpiderGeddon



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Abduction, Aggression, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Bondage, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Don't Read This, Drug Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gags, Graphic Description, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Bondage, Ownership, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Stockholm Syndrome, Top Wade Wilson, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-10-01 11:32:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17243471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderGeddon/pseuds/SpiderGeddon
Summary: Peter called it "The Parker Luck". It was his constant gravitation towards misfortune. And right now it was the reason, Peter figured, that a hooded man was climbing into the backseat of his car like he belonged there.Peter gets kidnapped by a dangerous trafficker. Will he be able to find his way home, or will he be pulled further from it?





	1. Just Drive

Peter called it "The Parker Luck". It was his constant gravitation towards misfortune. And right now it was the reason, Peter figured, that a hooded man was climbing into the backseat of his car like he belonged there. And it was also probably responsible for the sharp click he heard at his ribs seconds later.

"Turn the car on," commanded a gruff voice behind Peter's ear. Peter complied and opened his mouth to joke nervously. Before he could, the man stopped him.

"One single word and I pierce your lung. Not in the mood today, kid. Drive."

Peter snapped his mouth shut and did what he was told, fearing the heavy object pressed into his ribcage that was a hundred and ten percent probably a gun. He weighed the likelihood that the stranger would open fire in the closed parking garage of a very public grocery store, but decided that his kidnapper seemed serious enough. He jabbed the gun impatiently against Peter's ribs, prompting him to make a decision.

Peter had hoped it would be a quick ride and then he could just go home, but he figured out that wouldn't be the case by the time the early afternoon turned into late night and he was still being instructed through back streets. Peter was sure they weren't even in New York State anymore. A "Welcome to Pennsylvania" sign confirmed his suspicions. This definitely wasn't good.

It was nearly impossible to keep quiet the entire time. The only words from the stranger were when he barked seemingly random directions. They arrived sometime after ten pm, to the parking lot of a decent looking hotel. Peter was worried. This didn't look like just driving some criminal and being let go afterwards anymore. Peter swallowed.

The man shoved his gun into his coat pocket and reached forward to wrap a hand around Peter's throat threateningly. He squeezed so hard Peter's breath caught.

"Not. A single. Fuckin word. Understand?" His tone was about as threatening as it gets. It sent waves of fear down Peter's spine. Peter weakly nodded. His throat was released, and he barely had time to cough before the man was out of the car and opening Peter's door. He was practically dragged from his car. The kidnapper didn't release his shoulder until they were inside the lobby.

The guy had a reservation somehow, under Wade. Peter wondered if that was his real name. He was suddenly super cheerful with the receptionist. Peter offered her a friendly smile, still opting to obey the "no talking or fucking die" order. 

Peter listened. "Wade" had made an online reservation. Right, fuck, phones exist. He forgot. At that moment, Peter's practically burned in his pocket. If he could just get out of the man's sight for a second, he could call Aunt May. Or Ned. Or MJ. Or literally anyone.

MJ was probably already throwing a fit. He was supposed to be waiting for her to finish up her shift at the grocery store. And now her ride home was a no-show. Peter knew she'd spend a few hours being genuinely pissed off before the worry start to set in. He wondered if anyone would be able to find him.

Peter scanned his attacker's features while the clerk ran the credit card he gave her and walked away for whatever he had asked for. Peter wasn't listening anymore. The man-- Wade?-- Had coarse blonde hair jutting from underneath an olive green military cap. He was heavily muscled, and completely unhindered by the four giant duffel bags he picked up with ease. He caught Peter's eye and jerked his chin for him to follow, sharp blue eyes piercing right into him. He waited for Peter to be in front of him, and walked threateningly close behind. He smelled like expensive cologne.

The zoning out Peter was trying so hard to keep up fell apart the second the door to the hotel room closed. Wade was on him faster than a whip. In a flash, Peter's face was against the wall and the man who slammed him into it was wrenching his arms behind his back. Peter struggled, but he could barely wriggle his wrists in the tight grip.

A pair of heavy handcuffs was tightened around his wrists and the man kicked his legs open. Peter began to panic for just a moment, until Wade started patting him down. Shit, his phone. Right into a kidnapper's pocket. Same thing for his wallet, his car keys, and everything else that was in his pockets. He listened to rummaging behind him as the man went through his wallet. Peter squirmed, but the grip pressing him into the wall was plenty strong enough to hold him there.

"Peter, huh? I like that. 18, that's pretty cute."

Peter flushed and kicked out at the man before he had the chance to think about it. His shoe connected with a boot for about a tenth of a second, before everything flipped and the floor was in his face and the boot was on his back. Peter grunted and struggled.

"Not the best idea, kid. I'm like four times your size." The man growled. Peter whimpered underneath him.

"Pleeeeassse..." He whined. "Please just let me go home." He felt hot tears prick at the edges of his eyes. The man dug in his pocket. Peter craned his neck to see what was going on. He was tying a knot in the middle of a cloth.

"Sorry kid, not gonna happen. See, you're what's called a 'hostage', and those are pretty valuable." 

Peter yelped when the knot was shoved into his mouth. His head was yanked backwards and the gag was tied tightly. The man kept talking.

"Especially now that you've seen me, and know my first name. I literally can't afford to let you go, Peter." Peter shuddered as a hand was brushed through his hair. He tugged at the cuffs and growled pointedly. Wade ignored him and continued.

"Course, that could be a fake name. You don't know that. But it isn't and now you DO know that. So here we are."

Peter squirmed and whimpered around the gag, shaking his head and pulling against the handcuffs. Wade chuckled when he caught Peter's pleading gaze. He squatted down above Peter's back and tugged on his head, lifting his ear to his mouth.

"Way I see things right now, boy," he breathed, his tone more threatening than it had been before, "you. Belong to me."

Peter shook his head and tried to squirm, but the grip on his hair tightened. His eyes watered.

"Congratulations, baby boy, you're my fuckin' property."


	2. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade is a bad man. A bad man with morals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO HOO HOLY SHIT HAVE I BEEN SWAMPED YO
> 
> so heres the scoop of what happened. Got my hand absolutely MAULED by a terrier. Cool dog, he's fine tho. Healed up nice and good. Then almost chopped my goddamn finger off with a bowsaw. Cherry on top? Mounds of essays and paperwork for my job leads us to a massive delay in writing.
> 
> I'm back y'all

"Shit!" Wade spat, jamming his phone into his pocket as he hustled out his front door and into his car.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

His phone buzzed again as he was starting his car.

"Tick tock, Wilson. Bring me my property. TD"

"Fucking douche, find her yourself, like it's my fucking fault," Wade muttered angrily, chucking his phone into the passenger seat.

He tore out of the driveway, heading for the block where the girl who ran from his boss was last spotted.

It only took a few minutes of driving around and swearing at the empty air for him to find her, still in handcuffs, and crying next to the side of the road.

She hadn't seen his face. Luckily, Wade had a contact pick her up and drop her off to the warehouse. Unfortunately, his contact was a big dumb giant douchebag and let her get away, so now she was Wade's problem.

Wade pulled over quickly. The road was completely empty, with only thick brush surrounding them both. He rolled his passenger window down and put on his best shocked/concerned face.

"Woah woah, are you okay? Are you hurt?" He put a hand up non threateningly. The girl froze, unsure of herself, and took a step towards the car.

Easy does it.

"You have to help me," she blubbered, almost incoherently. "Some guy picked me up and took me all the way out here or something and now I'm stuck and i can't get these off and he might come back for me amd my parents are probably worried and I'm only sixteen and I--"

Wade cut off her rambling with surprise. Genuine surprise.

"Jesus jumpin Christ, you're a kid!?"

His boss was going to get an earful later.

She choked on a breath and slowly nodded. "Yes... I mean... Are... Are you gonna...?"

Help me, or hurt me?

The unasked question floated through the car window to Wade's ears, much heavier than he anticipated.

What was he supposed to do?

He had a code. He strictly followed thay code. This was against every part of it.

His hand twitched over the door lock for a brief moment. He could just leave her here, for someone else to pick up.

But what if they had the same idea his boss had? She was just a baby, and Wade didn't deal babies.

He sighed heavily, inwardly beating himself over the head, and unlocked the door. 

"Backseat, kid. We'll talk about what to do on the way."

"Way to, what?" Her voice jumped up an octave in anxiety as she struggled with the door.

Wade waved his hand dismissively. 

"Police station was my idea. Don't know if you'd prefer somewhere else, but I know they got the keys to those pesky cuffs you got on.

She nodded, hiccupping slightly.

"Plus probably your parent's numbers. You can call someone from there, get a snack or something, generally be safe?"

She nodded quietly again. Her silence wasn't that surprising. She was in shock, and Wade was just another stranger. One who was supposed to be doing the opposite of what he was doing, but couldn't get past his own feelings.

Sixteen years old.

His boss was going to be livid.

But he couldn't just hand the kid to him, knowing what the rest of her life would be like before she even got to touch adulthood.

This wasn't Wade's job. Wade's job was to pick up errant dimwits who wouldn't be missed and turn them for a profit. His job wasn't stealing kids and letting them get made into toys. 

She was dead silent for the rest of the ride into the city. So was Wade. They had nothing to talk about, and he didn't want to upset her even further. He was used to dealing with people in crisis, so this wasn't exactly new. He stopped about half a block from the station.

"Middle of NYC. Welcome. Station is two buildings that way, none of these clueless idiots will even notice you walking by. Now get outta my car, kid." 

Without questioning Wade, she reached behind her and opened the car door, politely closing it before she sprinted off down the street and into the police station for help.

"He might actually fuckin' kill me for this one," Wade mumbled as he drove off to clear his safehouse and find somewhere else. 

\-----

Wade's phone had been ringing for about a solid hour. He was way too angry to answer it. He considered chucking it out and getting a new burner but he knew for a fact he'd be found in less than a week.

He finally sighed and slid the answer button across the screen.

"What the fuck, Tolliver," He spat, before the other end of the line even made a sound. The voice that responded was about as calm and cool as it could be. 

"I could be asking you the same question, Wilson. Care to explain?"

"Did you know? You knew, didn't you?"

There was a pause.

"I know absolutely nothing, other than the fact that my client is dissatisfied with his services and will not be returning."

"TOLLIVER!" Wade roared, bringing his hand down to slap the kitchen counter in rage.

"Wilson." The voice calmly responded. He was trying to rile Wade up. And it was working.

"I have RULES, Tolliver. Rules I FOLLOW. You KNOW them."

"Ah, rules...? Yes I think I have them written down somewhere here..."

There were lots of exaggerated rustling sounds.

"You sonuvabitch you knew exactly what you were asking me to do. You KNEW--"

"--All I know, Mr. Wilson, is that I am now responsible for refunding a very unhaply client a very large amount of money."

"I'm gonna come up there and refund my fuckin' fist right up your--"

"--And someone, someone has to be at fault for that. Yes?"

Wade knew what was going on. He was being played. This was supposed to be his last job, and they screwed him for more.

"I don't know what you're getting a--"

"What I'm saying is, Wade," the other man started, his words clipping smugly, "is that you owe me something to the tune of, oh....... Let's see here....."

There were more exaggerated sounds on the other line, probably accompanied by Wade's livid breathing.

"Abouuuuut sixteen million? I think that's fair for compensa--"

"What the actual FUCK!? You wanna fuck me around like this and then ask for literally five times the original price?"

"Time is money, Wade. And both of those things have been wasted today. I suggest you get started on finding me new products to advertise, since we've lost one of our largest clients today."

*click*

The line went dead before Wade could even shout back.

\-----

Wade stormed out of his apartment door and headed for the subway. The plan was to go to the nearest grocery store, pick up some booze and snacks, and spend the rest of the day getting high and ignoring his phone and figuring out how he was going to pay this stupid jerkoff back.

That was the plan, at least, until he came through the parking garage.

Wade rounded a corner and scanned the floor for the elevators, which didn't seem to be in any of the logical, reasonable places he had checked.

He was debating taking the stairs when he heard some shitty pop music bumping from the inside of a vehicle.

Ducking behind an adjacent row of cars, Wade craned his neck to try and spot the driver. 

He looked to be a college aged kid, big eyes, fluffy hair. Wade inched closer to the vehicle, amazed that there weren't any other occupied cars this time of day.

The guy was drumming against the steering wheel with his fingers, singing along. Obviously waiting for someone.

Wade made his way close enough to make out his facial features after a few minutes. Soft. Boyish. Cute, even.

This kid alone could be worth easily half of what Tolliver was asking. 

He wasn't entirely sure he wanted that, though. Maybe he just wanted to have something he could hold over the man's greasy little head. Maybe he wanted a way out. 

Maybe he wanted something he could use as collateral. A safety net. A hostage.

Something he could trade if push came to shove and he wanted to make a break.

This particular something was beautiful. Breathtakingly.

Wade didn't have a single second thought as he retrieved his pistol from his pocket and slid into the backseat like he belonged there.

The doors weren't even locked. How adorable.

The instant fear he triggered in the boy was almost tangible. Wade could probably subsist off his pure anxiety for days.

This was going to be one hell of a road trip.

"Drive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New fics coming soon, drop me some requests amd suggestions and I'll do em <3


End file.
